Flowers in Your Hand
by Luckysee12
Summary: Yavanna long ago allowed Hobbits to grow their children when they couldn't have children the usual way. Bilbo uses this method to grow a reminder of a Dwarf he believes he has lost. Not Mpreg
1. Gladiolus

One day, many ages ago, long before you or I were born, there was the beginning of a race called hobbits. They had large feet, and curly hair on their heads and the tops of those feet. They had softly pointed ears like elves, and were only half the size as man, and lived in houses under hills in the rolling greens of the Shire. Hobbits were adventerous, and many in the begginning died during their adventures, which was unfortunate, as they had very few children. Yavanna saw this, and helped them with a gift. She told them that when the usual ways to gain children failed, they could follow a few steps, and they could _grow_ their own child.

Yes, my child, grow. When a couple wished to have a child, they would gather a few things. They needed one object that each parent loved dearly, and a flower that represented what they would wish their child to be like. With these things, they buried it in a box, made by one of the parents, in their garden. They must treat it with love and care, giving it water and sunlight, like with any flower. After a month, there would be a sprout. Any time between a month and three months after the sprout appears, it will bloom a magnificent flower that only appeared at a birth. Inside, would be the box it grew from. In the box would be the small babe.

The hobbits rejoiced, and many had children right away, a few finding that they had two plants bloom from one box. The children needed to be taken care of afterwards, and so many stopped with their adventuring. All, but the Took family. They continued adventured, less than before, but plenty enough, I assure you. It continued right down to Belladonna Took, borne of her father's pipe, her mother's pin, and the Belladonna plant (_beautiful lady_), who adventured all over Middle Earth and back. On one adventure, after she had married a young lad named Bungo, and became Belladonna Baggins, she went searching for the perfect flower for a child. She looked over many flowers on her journey. Black eyed susans (_encouragement_), Jasmine (_Grace_), Wisteria (_steadfast_) Until she found a tall plant, with several white cup shaped flowers, that see knew to be called a Gladiolus. "Perfect. _Strength of character_."

She knew she had only a week to rush it back to bury it, so he hiked her skirts up and ran like a madwoman, all the way to the shire, where she found Bungo and they buried the flower with Belladonna's necklace and Bungo's best waistcoat's buttons. It took the usual month to sprout, the yellow green shoot climbing larger and taller as days passed. Belladonna and Bungo took very careful care of the plant, going as far as telling it nursery tales of hobbits of old.

It was nearly the end of the third month when the flower opened. Belladonna noticed it, and was quick to drag her husband to it. "It's opening!" She had cried, and in the largest flower seen yet in the Shire, there was the same carved box, delicately etched by Bungo. Inside was a mewling baby with curly blonde hair just like his mother. The strangest thing was, that in his little hand was clutched one of the blossoms from the flower. No one had ever seen anything like it. Usually the flower and the trinkets were gone, their offering to Yavanna, and yet their child managed to hold on to a part of his flower.

Some elders considered it a terrible omen, and others a joyous occasion. Young Bilbo Baggins was welcomed to the world, holding his Galdiolus blossom.


	2. Crocus

When Bilbo Baggins returned to his home at Bag End, he was quite miserable. He had left the one he loved back in Erebor. He had not even spoken to Bofur since he was banished, and he could not go into Erebor to find his dwarf. He figured it was easiest to leave. He felt terribly wrong as he sat in his hobbit hole, alone. He had hoped since he started courting Bofur that one day his hobbit hole would be filled, which it hadn't been since the death of his parents.

It was after a few months of his misery that he heard the best thing he had heard in a long time. Some older women in the market were loudly discussing 'Mad Baggins'. "What he needs is to have himself a child." One of them said. "Why not find a good lass and grow a child like any other hobbit?" Bilbo had nearly stopped in his tracks. He knew that he may never see Bofur again, would it be so terrible to have a child to remind him of his smiling dwarf?

He nearly tripped over himself to go off on another small adventure. He began looking for the perfect flower, like his mother had, many years ago. Azalea (_temperence_), Forget-me-not (_memories_), Violet (_modesty_), he found many flowers with different meanings, but the perfect one he found while just past Bree. It was a small, violet flower, with small yellow stems in the center. He smiled. "Crocus. _Cheerfulness_." He had found the flower.

He was quick to bring it home, just like his mother had. He put it in a box that he had carved before leaving. It had dwarven styled symbols and his and Bofur's names on it. He placed the flower gently in it, with the remains of his waistcoat that he had worn on his journey. He slowly took the courtship bead that Bofur had given him and put it in as well. He had the second bead he had been given, still holding the braid behind his right ear, but this courtship bead was the one that Bofur had put so much love and effort into. He was sad to see it go, but he knew what he was trading it for.

He buried the box between his prized red roses (_love_) and lily of the valleys (_happiness_). He kept an almost unhealthy vigilance over it. He read stories of both hobbit origins and the few dwarven stories he had picked up. He found himself singing That's What Bilbo Baggins Hates several times. It had not sprouted in a month and a half. Bilbo was persistant, and just sang his songs and tales louder. He told the growing child the poems he had written, and the songs that were sung on the road, and stories of Bofur and his dazzling smile.

The way he laughed. The way his eyes crinkled. His brash humor. How he was a big softie. His fear of spiders after the cave. How he could spin tales. How his feet moved when he danced. How he would help Bilbo make flower crowns and sneak them on Dwalin when he wasn't looking. How he danced with Bilbo when there was no music. How it was when he loved him like he did.

Sometimes Bilbo would cry into the ground, half of the time hopelessly optimistic and the other half despairing that his chance to have more of Bofur was gone. Did he not dig it deep enough? Too deep? Did he chose the wrong objects? The wrong flower? No, the crocus was perfect. Was it Bilbo? Or because Bofur wasn't there? Because Bofur was not a hobbit? He prayed to Yavanna every night for the sprout to grow, late or not.

It was the end of two months when a small, yellowed shoot came through the dirt. Bilbo cried until he fell asleep, exhausted, curled around the little shoot. The next few months were spent around the growing plant. He tended to it, taking special care of it. More songs were made for his flower, and the flower grew.

It was nearly 4 months after it sprouted that winter started to set in. Bilbo created a careful shelter around the plant, hoping the cold wouldn't hurt it. He did not want to uproot it and put in a pot for fear of hurting it. Most plants had already bloomed by this point and he did not know if he could damage it. He placed heated stones around the inside of the little house he made. He stayed outside with it until his lips turned blue, and returned again after a short period of time, warmed stones and blankets at the ready.

It was one final month when it bloomed. Bilbo kept the warm blankets with him, preparing for the child. The flower bloomed, the largest flower he had seen, nearly larger than his largest serving platter. The box laid nestled on the flower. Bilbo very careful removed it, and lifted the lid. Inside was all he had hoped for.

It was a small girl, already alert with eyes opened and soft freckled skin, a crocus in hand, like her father before her. She had Bofur's dimples and smile, and Bilbo's brown eyes, and blonde hair, although her's held no curl like Bilbo's had. He hoped he wasn't breaking dwarf tradition when he named her.

"Welcome to the world, Bellabur."


	3. Forget-Me-Not

In the spring after Bellabur's birth, Bilbo had received a visitor.

He had only just put the child down for a nap. Even at only a few months old, she was one of the most playful children he had seen yet she was perfectly content to lay down for nap time. He was shuffling a few plush toys and blocks into a chest hidden behind his armchair when he heard a knock at the door. He frowned slightly. He had not been expecting someone. Perhaps it was Hamfast? He liked to drop in every so often but usually he left a note first.

Bilbo went to the large green door, and swings it open, to reveal a solemn face on a usually cheerful dwarf.

"Bofur?..."

The dwarf lifted his eyes to Bilbo. "Mornin' Bilbo." He said softly, in that lilting accent of his. Bilbo swore he would faint like he had when they spoke of dragon fire many years before. Bilbo said nothing, but stepped out of the way of the door, beckoning Bofur in. They moved to the den, where Bilbo still had the two armchairs set up, like he had on the night when the dwarrows first invaded his home. Well, this time it was only one dwarf.

They were painfully silent for a few moments. "Why'd ye leave?" A softened voice said, nearly crackling. Bilbo sit back in his chair and sighed deeply, feeling a pit in the depths of his stomach. "I-..." He started, his mouth dry, taking a moment to swallow and breathe in deeply. "I thought you hated me." He said in a voice as soft as his dwarf had used. Bofur's face slackened, his shoulder's drooping and face curving down into a disheartened look.

"Ye thought I hated ye? I never hated..." He spoke, leaving off for a moment. "I never could hate ye Bilbo. _Menu tessu_, ye are everything." He moved from his own armchair to press his forehead softly to Bilbo's. "I do love ye, Bilbo. I-" Bofur was interrupted by a sad whine from the other room. Bofur pulled back startled, and Bilbo exhaled softly. Bellabur usually slept through nap time, but sometimes she needed a nice cuddle to sleep, and this was one of those times.

Bilbo laced his fingers in with his dwarf's sturdy ones, and smiled at him. "I love you too, Bofur. And I have someone for you to meet." He started leading Bofur down the hall, Bofur started to stumble over his words. "I-if you have a lass now, I don't mean ta-" Bilbo hushed him. "I'm sure the lady here won't mind." He said, smile on his face.

He pushed open the door, and slowly lead Bofur inside. The circular window poured soft hazy sunlight onto the main feature of the room. A wooden crib, soft yellow and lavender blankets nestled in next to Bofur's biggest surprise. "Ye have a child?" He said softly, marveling down at the girl, who cooed and waved her arms, brown eyes looking at him curiously. Bilbo hoisted her small body into his arms. He prepared himself for something he had not ever meant to say.

"She's yours." Bilbo said softly, looking at Bellabur. Bofur gasped softly. "Mine?" He said softly, his large hand timidly touching the top of Bellabur's soft brown locks, his hand much larger than her. She took her hand from her mouth and held onto Bofur's hand determinedly, giving little noises of approval. "Yavanna can help hobbits who can't have babies in the usual way. I-I thought I wouldn't see you again, so I worked to have her. She had your smile."

Bofur smiled at Bellabur, who smiled back, dimples showing. "She has yer eyes." He replied happily. His usual cheery demeanor returned and he hugged Bilbo and his child to him, swaying them. "Bilbo, ye make me so happy. I never thought that this, _any_ of this would ever happen ta a dwarf like me." Bilbo smiled at Bofur's declaration, and Bellabur was enjoying her cuddles.

Bofur stopped for a moment. "What's her name?" He asked him excitedly. Bilbo smiled unsurely. "I think i followed the dwarf naming tradition, but..." Bofur nudged him. "I don't mind if ye did or not, just tell me." Bilbo laughed as Bofur impatiently looked at him. Bilbo lifted his daughter up, facing her towards Bofur. "Meet Bellabur, daughter of Bofur."

Bofur looked at his daughter and the man he loved, and took a breath in. "I love ye so much, Bilbo. Ye and Bellabur both. So much it's makin' me feel..." Bofur didn't finished before he fainted, falling to the ground. Bilbo looked at him shocked, while Bellabur giggled happily.


End file.
